


Beyond

by Davechicken



Series: Jealous Hux & Voyeur Rey [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Non-perfect BDSM, read the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 01:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13156260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo calls to Rey. Rey... comes.





	Beyond

**Author's Note:**

> Big fat disclaimer about potentially not fully healthy BDSM, authors not suggesting you do the following in public, avoid if you can’t read not-nice people being not wonderful-people etc. Don’t like, don’t read.

She knew what was coming before she arrived, of course she did. She’s many things, but she’s no fool. 

The Resistance is frayed to the point of Acquiescence, but only because there’s so few of them left to carry that spark. Luke Skywalker is dead. Leia Organa is dead. All the great Generals, Admirals, leaders, diplomats, strategic minds…

It’s hardly fair to even call them an organisation, now. And she’s seen the despair in their eyes, and it’s sunk into her bones. There is only so much sorrow one woman can feel bathing her, before she risks going insane from it. 

Dead. So many dead.

 _You could come to me_ , he had whispered, alone. A rare moment where Hux was occupied, and Kylo-was-Ben would speak to her in private. 

          No. Because you had your chance.

_The old ways do not work._

          And I’m no murdering monster.

_We could make things different._

           Not with **him**.

_Then come convince him. If it’s the right thing to do… I’ll support you._

\- oh, of course it had felt appealing. Of course she’d wanted to believe he told her the truth. That there was hope of some form of… progress. 

And what else was there to do?

What else, but to turn up again. This time flying in, not jettisoned. It had felt wrong to take the _Falcon_ , so she’d used an old, ragged small freighter. One with next to no weapons, but shields aplenty (Finn and Poe wouldn’t let her leave, otherwise). 

Down from the gangway, onto the deck.

She’d never seen the General - no, what did he call himself now? Grand Moff, or something? She’d never seen him in _person_ , but she knew that the fine clothes he covered himself with were richer than he would wear (however briefly) on other occasions they had ‘met’.

He’d never seen _her_. Not face to face. Over holos, and through Kylo’s eyes.

She ignores his gaze and looks straight at Ben-Kylo. “I’ve come to negotiate.”

“I think you’ll find you came to surrender,” Hux sneers. That same… sickly, oozing voice she knows and… loathes. It sounds at once both utterly self-satisfied, and utterly… self-loathing.   


Rey wonders how many people hear the second tone.

“Ben.”  


“That is not his name,” Hux cuts over him. “The Supreme Leader–”  


“Kylo,” Kylo says. He’s standing there, the very picture of torn.  


Where facing Snoke his face had been almost perfect, here…

“You cannot continue to destr–”  


Hux clicks his fingers. They’re gloved, so the effect is dampened. She wonders if he forgot. 

“We can do this here, or we can do this in the Audience Chamber.”  


She half wants to shoot him, but she is aware Kylo would stop it, and everyone else would centre their fire on her. But she _came_ here, and so…

“Then we better get moving,” she grunts, and hefts her pack on her shoulder.  


***

The room they enter has a throne in the centre. She’s spoken with Kylo in here many a time, and whilst he sits on it when others are here… she knows another rear thinks it belongs there. 

Which is why Hux taking the seat, and Kylo standing to his side, is no surprise.

“You have come to swear fealty to the First Order, and recognise that your outdated ‘Republic’ was nothing more than an excuse for disorder, chaos, corruption, and decay.”  


“I have come to _negotiate_ ,” she retaliates, looking angrily at Kylo. “It would benefit both our sides to find a peaceful resolution for the better of the galaxy.”  


“ **I am the better of the galaxy**.”  


“You need me.”  


“I need you to _kneel_.”  


Rey watches in horror as B- Kylo does just that. Just the word, and he’s genuflecting. His hands, palm-upwards. His head, bowed. His expression…

“Ben! Ben… why are you doing this? You just swapped one Master for another!”  


“Master loves me,” Kylo replies, his voice… oddly serene. His head is lowered, but he glances up.  


“Permission, first, pet,” Hux reminds him… and then strokes a hand over his hair… before grabbing a handful at the nape of his neck and manhandling him.  


Kylo falls almost flat on his face, his sides clearly taut with the effort of being over-balanced and held there. “Mercy, Master,” he whispers. “I am sorry.”

Hux shoves him, and Kylo doesn’t even break his fall. He lands flat on his face, and Rey wouldn’t be surprised if he lifts up bloody from that.

“How can you say he loves you when he treats you like that? You had no intention of making the galaxy better, did you?” she asks, her voice more shrill than she wanted. Pleading, hurt, and… disappointed in herself.  


“He **needs** this,” Hux says, as he adjusts his gloves. “Like the galaxy, he _needs_ Order. Someone to set the course and speed. Someone to call the commands.”  


Kylo lies still, until Hux kicks at his ass, and then his knees move and his rump lifts obediently. His face still tasting floor, utterly willing for anything Hux might abuse him with today.

“Why, Kylo?” she begs. “Why? He’s just as much of a monster as Snoke was. He just wants to use you for your power!”  


“Answer the bitch,” Hux orders.  


Kylo moves his face enough to speak, and she does see the puddle of blood from his nose, now. His voice is thick with the pain… and something else. Something she feels thrumming through their bond: alive, electric… _joyful_.

“Master makes it make sense. Master makes the decisions so his boy doesn’t have to. Master makes sure his boy is safe and happy. Master loves his boy.”  


“He’s _hurting you_.”  


“ _The boy loves it_.”  


And he does. Oh, but he does. She can hear the fervour in his tone, and she wonders what warped him so that he craves the almost-destruction this man offers. That he needs the sharp sting of pain to feel pleasure, or the threat and recovery to feel safe. That he’s so beyond able to trust his own mind that he would give every decision up to… _Hux_ …

“See. He needs it. He’s unhappy if he’s not controlled. He was never truly happy with his former Master, but I make sure…” and Hux runs the arch of his foot under the lifted belly, before kicking him firmly in the side, “…that he is _safe_ , and _happy_.”  


“You’re no better than Snoke!”  


“Oh?”  


“ _You blew those planets up!”_  


“And you think they would have hesitated to blow the same number of _us_ up, Scavenger?”  


“Not innocent people!”  


“…and you don’t think any of my men are ‘innocent’? They fire on those who fire on them. Some don’t even wield weapons. They believe in _Order_ , and command. It is _your_ fault your team of inbreds couldn’t organise a piss-up in a cantina.”  


Rey’s hand twitches, and she feels that **anger** rise. The dark hunger for revenge, the quick and easy way to end this. A short, sharp snap of light and…

“Why did you come, if not because you want this, too?” Hux asks.  


“I don’t want… _this_.”  


“You’ve seen the ecstasy I give my boy…” Hux kicks the robes up from Kylo’s ass.  


Kylo, of course, lifts them the rest of the way and pushes his pants down, baring his rear to the room. 

“…you know he belongs to **me** , and not _you_. You must know you cannot win him away from someone he _loves_. So… is it a voyeuristic daydream, or do you feel the need for the boundaries, too?”  


“It’s - I–”  


“A Jedi thing, he tells me. Needing to know limits. Lines. Edges. He never found them with the Skywalker monster, and when he failed his student, he tried to erase his mistake, his _lack_.”  


“That is not true! Luke changed his–”  


Hux reaches to his hip, and with a flip of his thumb… a holowhip crackles down. It’s bright, blaring white, and Rey reaches out with the Force in horror… only to find Kylo’s mind pushing back just as hard to keep her from interfering.

They lock like that, and Rey screams inside her mind as she feels the utter… _love_? Glee? Hope, loyalty, devotion, safety… all those things she’d craved. All those things she was sure Ben had lost, but has somehow found in this insane place…

Up goes the whip, and when it lands on Kylo’s upper thighs, she feels the sting of it as surely as it wounded her. Her knees cave, and she drops to them.

“ _Stop_ ,” she begs.  


“Let go,” Kylo whispers, his face a rictus as he tries to overwhelm her with his senses.  


She wants to know what he sees in this man, but she’s terrified she’ll see the same things. Hux is _awful_. He’s killed more than Kylo ever has, and he seems to feel absolutely no remorse about it, either. He thinks it’s _war_ , but is it war to wipe out children? 

Has the Resistance ever done the same?

Hux starts to lash Kylo in earnest, the blows striking in a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic, trance-like and expanding. The pain Kylo is in is both sharp and… _true_. An honest sensation, and one that takes up the whole of his mind, almost. 

He’s losing the ability to fight her, and she wonders if that’s why he wants it. To have someone be more powerful than him, for once. To not be everyone’s… to not be the person everyone looks to for the answers. Supreme Leader. Jedi. Son. Scion. Successor. Hope. All those things the Resistance want _her_ to be… to somehow fix everything that’s gone wrong…

…to have the powerful pull of the Force countered, to have the whole self be nothing but sensation, even if it’s pain.

At some point, she drops to her hands and stares down at the floor below her. She can feel the rock of Ach-to; trembling, cold, salt-kissed. She can feel the song inside of it; light, dark, life, death, turn and return. Order and chaos. Upswing, downswing. Violent beauty, and the pulled-tight string between them. The way it releases a note when you pluck it, and the way you’re both pulled to, and disgusted by the same thing…

“Let go,” Kylo whispers.   


She’s crying, and the blows have somehow stopped. Her whole being shakes and the Dark, Dark place calls to her.

_You need me. You need me. You **are** me. I am **You.**_

She can’t. She can’t need this. The galaxy can’t need Hux, and yet… it does. Action, reaction. Even he has a place in the greater song, and she looks up at him with eyes that haze the world over.

“You… you… can’t,” she whispers. “You can’t.”  


“I can’t: what?”  


“Rule alone.”  


“Oh?”  


“You need us. You… you need us.” She isn’t sure how, but she knows it must make sense, somehow. A way for balance. Maybe it’s pain delirium talking, or maybe it’s those whispered visions she can see.  


“M-make it work. Not with violence.”  


“Violence is all the galaxy–”  


“ _No_.”  


She says it fiercely, and she realises… the decision didn’t come from _her_. It wasn’t her mind making the plan, it was… the Force? The galaxy. It’s not her decision. It’s not her place.

She simply can _see_ it, and tell the whole world.

“Yes,” Kylo breathes. “Let the past die.”  


Rey smiles. Hux is a monster. Han was a monster. But monsters are people, and Kylo needs this man. For whatever reason, he needs him. And Hux’s love might be alien to her, but she can feel the fire of his conviction in him, and she knows it can be used. 

Hux’s holo-whip circles Kylo’s throat, as the man moves to mount him in front of her. Robes parted, the toy he’d worn inside pulled out and dropped to make room for his cock. She can feel the harshness of the coupling, see the peace Kylo’s finding. Passion, hunger, and control. Hux rides the man to claim him, to remind him, and to love him. She feels the phantom friction, and it sparks hot flowers of lust like wax dropped from a candle. Her lips get slick and plump, and she cries out as the other two rush to their mutual satisfaction.

Kylo begs so sweetly before he finishes, and he’s boneless and happy in the wake of it. He drops like a soggy cloth to the ground, and she tingles _everywhere_ with his lust. 

“You don’t get to take him,” Hux tells her, when he’s almost there. His voice is bordering on hysterical.  


Envy. She realises now that all those nasty, cruel, violent nights were just Hux staking his territory, making sure everyone knew. But she has no desire to break their connection, no. It’s helping Kylo, even if… it’s not what she would have liked to work for him. It works. That’s enough. 

“I don’t want to take him from you,” she replies, as he leaves his mark inside the other man. “I want to fix the galaxy.”  


And - quite despite himself - Hux has given back the one thing he’d robbed from her: hope. 

It can be done. Not easily, but she’s sure again it can. Fighting hasn’t worked, so it’s time they tried something else, instead. 


End file.
